… past Friday were a sweet few hours
— the soul was not accused , not under attack ,
and had actually hópe for a change ;
realizing that nothing – nothing – really matters
but only the treasure of being free and blameless
… yet the same time there was the worry —
therefore , Sir ,
save a poor soul from drowning in this sewer ,
she choking in a neverending foulness ,
wanting to have a black hole to forever hide in ;
— it is impossible for her to read what you promised ,
the stain and shame would always be in the background ,
… she is tired of pondering how the f*ck this can happen ,
just WHY the soul is that helpless and powerless —
if there is nothing to love her for then why she exists ?
how can you say “I want sons”
when the core of those sons are less than ants …?
why would you make souls who don’t stand a chance , anyway ?
… you said “lets make them in our image” ,
but what image – if she hasn’t any serious choice ? ;
it takes a soul decades to understand “she can’t give anything” ,
being unable to give anything of value —
but why , on top of that , show her this ultimate disgrace ..?
coming from a soul over whom your son placed his protective sword ;
… I’m deeply hurt by what’s going on
and will wait until you open her prison